Laugh
by Shocky
Summary: Laughing Octopus/Crying Wolf. Crying is such an ugly thing, why not laugh instead? Written for the MGS Slash Halloween meme.


She remembers the crying.

She remembers their puffy, reddened faces, their lips swollen and noses dripping, tears clearing a path down their blood-streaked cheeks. She remembers how _ugly_ they were, and how their once-familiar voices were distorted by raw throats and desperation. She remembers the sound and how much it tormented her, and wasn't it funny that the people she loved could produce a noise she loathed with every fiber of her being? _Hilarious._ It was all a sick joke then, and she remembers laughing so hard her sides ached as she brought the knife down one by one, until their cries became gurgling as blood flooded their windpipes and at last the noise subsided.

Oh, how she _laughed_...

It's a sound of joy, and she loves it more than anything of the world, even when her mad cackling makes her voice hoarse and she can only make a series of short guttural clucks until her lungs spasm from lack of oxygen and force her to pause and take a breath. She does so only so she can laugh again.

_She_ cries too much.

She hates it. Whenever she's nearby, she can hear the anguish, and she can feel her chest constrict with- with- _with mirth._ Because it's funny. It's funny that she would be partnered with a girl who does nothing but make that hideous sound, absolutely hysterical that even her most uproarious laughter can't drown out the howling.

_Comic gold._

But the joke is wearing thin. _She_ could use some new material. Who better to teach her than the very girl who sees the humour in any situation?

It's dark when she hears the sobbing again. _She_ is back from prowling. She lets herself disappear into the shadows, watching, waiting, shaking with silent laughter at the sick irony. A killing machine out to make someone smile. Now _that's_ comedy. But a joke is always better with somebody else to laugh along with. Here comes her companion now.

It takes what seems like hours for her to coax the girl out of the hulking suit, to see her face for the first time. It's not ugly like she remembers. There are tears, but they fall from shimmering eyes, not at all red or bloodshot. They trail down her pale face, falling one at a time to splatter on the gorgeous breasts below. She's beautiful. She's everything that sadness _isn't._ How can that be?

The Octopus giggles to herself. You can't make up a punchline like this. They say truth is stranger than fiction, but it can also be more hysterical than even the most well-practiced gags. There's only one problem...

She's still _crying._

Telling her to shut up doesn't work – she's tried. It takes more than mere words to comfort this girl. It's alright. She has a plan. No matter how sad or angry or scared someone is, their body can still be happy. Octopus knows the pleasures of the flesh. She's experimented with herself, trying to find ways to make herself happy, enjoying every minute of it. Tentacles are handy research tools. She's a bit of an expert on the female body by now, and she knows just where to touch and tease, just how soft her caresses should be, just what speed.

The Wolf's crying quiets down, but there's no stopping it completely. She whimpers quietly at the new sensations, hiccuping from time to time, but makes no move to stop it. She even tries to play along with the joke, but as someone who's clearly never laughed at anything, her improvisation is weak. Suddenly she gasps sharply and lets out a long howl, delicate frame shaking. Octopus knows why.

For the briefest of moments, she's silent, and Octopus relishes every minute of it, though she knows it won't last. It doesn't take long for the weeping to start up again, and she can only laugh at how predictable _she_ is.

"Laugh," she whispers against her collarbone, planting a small kiss there before moving up to look at her face. Still as beautiful as ever. "_Laugh!_"

She doesn't. There can only be one happy ending, and it's already happened for her. But she does choke back a sob, and one corner of her mouth curls upward, and suddenly her beauty is overwhelming, her face radiant as a goddess'. It lasts only for a second before her bottom lip starts quivering again, but the image is burned into Octopus' mind, standing out from the other _ugly_ faces.

She vows to improve her material.

She wants to see that smile again.


End file.
